


Starting Over

by salchowproblem



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Gen, Injury Recovery, Introspection, Pre-PyeongChang 2018 Winter Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salchowproblem/pseuds/salchowproblem
Summary: When Yuzuru looks at the marble floor beneath his feet, he sees broken glass. Hundreds, thousands, millions of tiny glass shards look back at him, sparkling under the lamp’s warm yellow light. They glitter, but they are not gold. Today, that is especially hard to accept.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Starting Over

When Yuzuru looks at the marble floor beneath his feet, he sees broken glass. Hundreds, thousands, _millions_ of tiny glass shards look back at him, sparkling under the lamp’s warm yellow light. They glitter, but they are not gold. Today, that is especially hard to accept.

It's only him and his mother in this quaint, quiet, curious little living room. As always. Like most times. But today, the usual calm and peaceful atmosphere that usually envelops their little Canadian home is displaced by something more foreign, more sinister. Words come easy to Yuzuru when he’s with his mother. Always, most times. But today, he has nothing to say. Nothing that the broken glass on the floor hasn’t said already.

His mother is older, wiser, more generous than he is. She takes it upon herself to break the silence. For a moment, a stupid thought crosses Yuzuru’s mind – unfortunately, not the first of the day. _At least someone still loves me._

“Yuzuru. You have to help us help you”.

Yuzuru wants to agree, wants to pledge his gratitude and affection for her. _Thank you for everything, I love you more than you will ever know_ , he wants to say. But he doesn’t, because he can’t. He’s choking up, has been for a while now, and a sob finally escapes his lips. He shakes his head to make it go away. It doesn’t.

His mother doesn’t rub it in any further – she walks towards him, gives him one of those quiet, wordless hugs that say everything. He melts into her touch. He sobs into her shoulder, and he feels pathetic. But it's okay. _This is also Yuzuru Hanyu_ , he thinks mirthlessly.

When she gives him a quick kiss goodnight and disappears into her room, he goes to bed too. The tears have stopped, leaving a sort of wistful woefulness in their wake. His ankle throbs, so he grabs one of the many ice packs in his freezer and ices it for the seventh time that day. He counts because he _has_ to.

It’s funny – he’s overcome so much in his life so far – emotional scars that hurt more than his ankle ever could. But it’s this, this physical pain that is keeping him from his dream now. He’s overcome so much else. Will _this_ be what stops him?

He feels almost like he’s being called out by the universe, for wanting too much, for trying too hard. _You have to pay your dues first_. Someone had told him that when he was a child, and he thinks about those words often. Most times, they’re humbling. For the past two weeks, they’ve been deafening.

This was never part of the plan. He isn’t supposed to be icing his ankle at midnight, three months before the Olympics with almost no training time allowed. He’s supposed to be overthinking his step sequence, perfecting his 5th quad, doing back-to-back clean performances at the club. That’s what he dreamt of as a child. That’s what he’s worked for all his life, but now he has to start over.

_We will need a new plan_ ; Brian had said two weeks ago. Yuzuru had already known that, of course. Those had been the first words in his brain the moment he felt the pain. Still, it hurt to hear them spoken out loud. Now, he kind of regrets the catty ‘ _I know that’_ he said to Brian in response. It’s not Brian’s fault that Yuzuru’s dreams are a little too heavy for his body. It’s not Brian’s fault that Yuzuru lives only for his dreams. _Selfish_ , he muses. He wonders when his dreams became only about himself.

For the past two weeks, Yuzuru has felt like someone else. It’s like he’s watching his own life unfold in front of him, from the outside. He can see he’s about to make a mistake, but he makes it anyway. He knows he’s about to say wrong things but he says them anyway. He can feel that he’s about to hurt himself, but he does it anyway.

And still, people care about him. Brian let his rudeness slide. He patted Yuzuru on the back while leaving the conference room. _We’ll get through this_. Yuzuru liked that he said _we_ and not _you_. Javier sent him a voice note even though he’d ignored all his text messages. In it, he talked him through a home exercise plan even though he knew Yuzuru already had his own. _Just in case it helps_. His mother hugged him even though he’d hurled her favourite vase onto the floor. She held him when he cried and refused to let him pick up the pieces. _You have to help us help you._

Thinking of those words brings around a fresh wave of tears. They take him back to memories of other times he’s felt this defeated. Surprisingly, he finds that those memories all have something in common, and it’s not just misery. It’s people who cared about him – some without even personally knowing him – coming together to help him help himself. A letter, a wish, _ema_ , a hug, a playful insult, a new opportunity, a song. Selfless actions of love and care extended towards another him, unprompted. Genuine happiness clear on their faces every time another one of his dreams came true. Dreams he’d thought were only his own reflected in hundreds, thousands, _millions_ of eyes looking back at him.

A sense of gratitude spreads across his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his entire being. He’s sobbing again but he instead of constricting, it feels liberating. It’s a familiar feeling, and he feels a little more like himself again. It’s like he’s had blinkers on, and they’ve suddenly been removed and he can finally see that he’s not alone. He feels the overwhelming urge to show the world that he knows that, that he’s infinitely thankful, that he’ll never take this for granted. Tomorrow, he will.

He’ll dust himself off, get back up and reclaim his life again. And he’ll try a little harder to help himself, to take his mind out of this dark place it has wandered into. He’s been told he has a nice smile. He’ll wear it tomorrow, and after a while, it will start feeling real. He’ll write Brian a Christmas card. He’ll tell his mom he loves her. He’ll bring Javier a coffee and have the barista make a little smiley face on top. And he’ll wear his Sochi gold medal and let himself feel like a champion. Tomorrow, Yuzuru will start over. 

**Author's Note:**

> I first started writing this 5 months ago, but I wasn't in the right frame of mind to finish it on a positive note like I wanted to. Ironically, I'm doing a lot better now (despite the craziness of these times) and I thought I'd finish it! Yuzuru's journey to the Pyeongchang Olympics is so inspiring to me, and I'll never shut up about it I guess.


End file.
